Just Pretend
by Familiar-abyss
Summary: What happens when Dante just needs to feel wanted for a night. Mature, one shot.


A loud knock on her front door stole her attention.

"Who the hell?" she muttered to herself as she made her way to the door. The old grandfather clock read just after 1 am and it was raining cats and dogs outside so she had no idea as to who was disturbing her relative peace.

She opened the door and let out a surprised breath.

Filling her doorway was a six-foot-something, sopping wet half demon. He wasted no time on formalities, walking straight in like he owned the place.

"Please, come in," she said sarcastically as she closed the door. She turned to face him.

Honestly she should have been expecting this. It had been months since his last visit and she had started to get a little concerned. He looked over, waiting for her to give the all-clear.

"You know the rule," she said sternly, "we only do this if you can remember my name." This was her test to see if he if he was drunk or not. If he didn't pass the test then all he was getting tonight was a kiss on the forehead and a place on the couch to sleep it off.

"Mari," he answered solemnly, no trace of his usual cocky attitude on his face.

"Fine," she replied.

The moment the word left her lips she was swept up in a bone crushing embrace, one that she returned with as much strength as she could muster. The large half-demon never asked for affection, he either brushed it away or, on the very rare occasion, demanded it. But he never asked.

Tonight was one of those rare occasions. She didn't know if something big had happened or if the constant loneliness was just too much. Either way she had a head of white hair buried in her neck while she struggled to breathe. Mari let him stay like that for as long as he wanted. Neither of them loosened their arms even though after a few minutes hers were starting to ache with effort.

Just as suddenly as he had hugged her he dropped his lips to hers. Instantly the pair was locked in a passionate kiss, one that set the framework for exactly how Dante planned to ease his loneliness tonight.

His kisses had a kind of need behind them, not a need for sex, just a need to connect. He would come to her like this usually every three months or so, but it had been almost a year since the last time he had sought her out. It wasn't as if she didn't know how to find him, a guy like Dante didn't exactly blend in, but she never did. This right here was, for all intents and purpose, imaginary. This was a way for him to cope with his neglected human emotions without actually needing to address anything. If she were to show up at his shop one day it would shatter the illusion. Sure, she should feel used, but she owed him and over time she had grown to care for him so if this is what he needed, she would give it to him.

His mouth left hers only to reattach under her jaw, her neck, her collar bone… He gave a throaty growl, a sound that promised she would not be sleeping tonight. While he was anything but gentle with his advances, he was never rough.

She gasped out loud as he briefly stroked the notch between her legs through her thin pajama pants.

Mari reached down from her embrace around his neck to clumsily pull at the buttons of his vest while also untucking the shirt underneath. Her hands ran down the definition of his stomach. He shuttered beneath her touch.

"More," he demanded hoarsely. The baritone of his voice sent a surge of pleasure through her body. She obliged immediately by helping to pull off his tight black shirt as he tore her tank top clean down the middle and ripped it off her shoulders.

They paused for a moment to look at each other, Dante subconsciously rubbing her arm.

A thousand thoughts raced though their minds in that minute. She wanted to soothe him, tell him that someone cared if a demon got the better of him some night. He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, resplendent in the gentle glow of the still-on TV. But neither wanted to break the spell.

Dante was the first to move. He reached behind Mari, running his big hands down her bare shoulder blades, stroking her lower back. She reciprocated by teasing his waistband with her fingers, unsurprised to find that he wasn't wearing any underwear. Impulsively she popped the top button of his pants. He let out a quick breath of anticipation.

Just as impulsively Dante pushed his hand under her pajama pants. She yelled in a mix of shock and pleasure as she felt his fingers at her core. He rubbed slowly, almost languidly, he was in no rush. In the same fashion Mari ran her palm up and down the bulge just beneath his zipper.

He maneuvered her to the back of the couch in the same moment she pulled down the zipper to release him. Clutching her ass, he lifted her onto the top of the leather sofa. He grabbed the elastic of her pants and with one good tug she was naked.

Dante pushed her knees apart and stepped in close. She was stroking his length, slowly tightening her grip and enjoying the way she was making him pant. He leaned in once more to taste her, biting carefully on an earlobe, tracing his tongue across her collar bone, all the while keeping his thumb rubbing lazy circles around her pleasure center. It was his intention to work his mouth all the way to her core, but as his tempo increased so did hers and he simply couldn't hold back any longer.

Bracing Mari's lower back with a hand Dante entered her with one thrust. They cried out in unison. If this were his usual sexual experience, and she was his usual floozy he would have bent her over the back of the couch and been done in five minutes. But this wasn't, and she wasn't.

Dante moved, slowly at first but quickly picking up a rhythm. He loved watching her face as he did so, seeing the way it glowed with her passion he could almost pretend that someone loved him, appreciated him. Just pretending was enough.

"Dante," she moaned, letting her head fall back, practically begging him to increase his speed.

He obliged, cherishing the way his name had sounded on her lips. They were breathing heavily, moving in unison to the most primal beat. Both could feel the delicious tension building, building until it was all they were and all they had ever known. He held tighter as he felt the sensation taking over, using her as his anchor. Likewise Mari was utterly lost in what he was doing and how she was responding.

"Dante," she repeated, this time more of a plead than a moan.

That pushed him over the edge, hearing someone need him, want him. Mari felt Dante's release and lost control. An orgasm like heat lightning spread to every inch of her body. She lost herself in the ecstasy. When she finally resurfaced, she realized that Dante's hands around her back were all that was keeping her upright. He tucked his chin and kissed her, lightly, sweetly. She closed her eyes and she could almost pretend that they did this every night, that the white-haired man loved her. They both knew as soon as the sun rose he would be gone and not think about this again until the next time he needed her. But for now, just pretending was enough.

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I wrote this after watching the DMC anime for the umpteen-thousandth time. It bugged me how ungrateful everyone seemed to be, or how the one time he reached out to his former partner she shot him down. The way I see it, he probably has a lot of pent-up feelings, and alcohol and one night stands can only go so far. So I made up an outlet for him, something that doesn't change his character, just shows a different side. Anywho, hope you liked it, please R & R!


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